Elizabeth C. Main - Jane Serrano 02 - No Rest for the Wicked (27 page)

Torn between a desire to stay out of that dark cave and a fear that too many questions would goad Velda to lethal action, I braced my hands on each side of the doorway and looked back at her.
“
Velda, you don’t want to—
”

“
Shut up!
”
Velda cocked her head at the sound of an approaching car. Her breath came faster as she turned back to me.
“
Get in there now … or I’ll shoot you where you stand. And if you make a racket, I’ll shoot whoever’s in that car, too!
”

She punctuated her last word with a shove between my shoulder blades th
at propelled me into the gloom.

The door slammed behind me. Instinctively
,
I whirled and put my shoulder to the old wood
. I
t didn’t budge. I ran my hands over the rough surface in a frantic search for an inside latch, but succeeded only in driving a splinter deep into my left palm.

Knowing my situation would only worsen if I annoyed Velda further, I bit back a cry of pain and worked to dislodge that painful splinter. Each attempt merely drove it deeper. It didn’t help that I couldn’t see a thing, but my nerve endings screamed out the exact location of the sliver each time I touched it. Since I was left-handed, my right-handed efforts were particularly clumsy so I tried using my teeth instead. That was better, but I still couldn’t quite grab it. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. Nuts. I took a few deep breaths to steady myself. Maybe if I sat down I could do better.

The dusty air held a faint odor of rot. I hoped the smell came from a moldy sack of potatoes and not
from
some long-dead squirrel sprawled nearby. My thoughts turned to spiders—particularly the black widows and brown recluse
s common to old buildings in
c
entral Oregon
. Nope. Couldn’t go there. Nothing to be gained by letting that mental picture take hold. Still, I tapped one foot methodically over the packed earth floor to give fair warning to any nearby living thing before I sat down to attack the splinter.

“
Anybody got tweezers?
”
I whispered.

Listening to my own quavery voice was better than bracing for the furtive sounds of rats scrabbling around, but I reminded myself that rodents and spiders
were the least of my worries.

My initial excitement at
stumbling upon Hunter Blackburn’s killer
seemed far in the past
. Velda had urged me to be patient, to wait for the rescue party that was sure to come.
If only she weren’t a pathological killer and liar, I’d love to take her advice.
N
o matter how fast a rescue party showed up, it
would come
too late for me
. My
only solace was that eventually Alix would be freed.

If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d never have believed the helpful, submissive Velda capable of violence. She should have been an actress. No wonder she’d been so eager to help Minnie chase phony suspects around the countryside. Staying close to Alix’s friends had given her all the information she needed about the murder investigation, such as it was. She must have had some good laughs over that. With Alix in jail and Arnie congratulating himself on having caught the killer, Velda
had been able to
risk waiting
for that passport.

No wonder she
’d
started sweating when I
’d
showed up unexpectedly and asked to speak to her aunt. With a hefty withdrawal from her aunt’s bank account, Ve
lda would be sipping margarita
s in a
tropical
climate long b
efore anyone caught on to her.

But she was right. I had definitely messed things up for her. How rational was she?
I knew w
hat she
was
plann
ing to do before she left
.
I had no intention of waiting around to find out
how and when
.

I returned my attention to the splinter, working at it until a stab of pain signaled that at last my teeth were gripping it securely. I pulled again and the sliver came free. Instant relief. Step on
e, completed. Now what?

Chapter 28

Hoping for a miracle, I pressed my back against the door and opened my eyes wide, searching in all directions for a telltale light pointing the way to a convenient hole in the wall or roof. Unfortunately, the old cellar was well
built. The phrase
“
dark as a tomb
”
came into my mind, and I tossed it right back out. I needed a plan of action
, not a prescription for panic.

Turning to face the wooden door, I
moved
clockwise along the wall. At first, I encountered only bricks, but as I approached
an
adjoining wall, I touched wooden shelves. An unfortunate sweep of my searching hands dislodged a glass jar, which crashed to the floor. The sharp odor of sauerkraut filled the room.
I froze. Would the noise bring Velda? No sound from outside. Good.
Shuffling carefully through shards of glass
,
I inched further along the side wall, feeling my way past more glass jars, pruning shears, and a layer of dirt that
likely
contained rat droppings among other disgusting things.
I gave a nervous giggle, which sounded out of place. An infection was the least of my worries.
Still,
I’d drown the wound with Bactine at the first opportunity. And some triple-antibiotic ointment. Maybe get a tetanus shot, too.

The back wall had no shelves, just a forest of cobwebs. I brushed them aside, flinging my arms wide and shuddering as some caught in my hair. If there were any current residents of the webs, they were going to be very unhappy with me as I
groped my way through them
, hoping to locate
another
exit. Nothing.

I made my way to the next corner, turned, and moved along the last remaining wall.
More shelves. How long before Velda returned? No way to tell, but I was running out of walls to explore
.
I couldn’t
glimpse even
a crack of ligh
t
that might
indicate an escape route.

Midway along the fourth side, I felt a slight breeze on my face.
I stopped, heart beating faster.
Was it my imagination?
I moved back and forth until I could pinpoint its location. Reaching across the shelf, my exploring fingers traced the rough outline of a window-sized recess in the wall. Eureka!

Holding my breath, hoping against hope, I explored the area with my fingers. Yes. A window lay behind the shelves.
I
collected
the pruning shears
from the opposite
wall,
stumbled back,
and
pried at
the shelves.
I wanted to tear into them, but was afraid to make any noise.
Once I
had the shelves down, though, I scrabbled to pull the
shutters
apart
. They
wouldn’t budge.

Sucking at my bleeding fingers, I almost burst into tears. But tears wouldn’t do me much good. Stay
p
ositive
. It was my best hope.

But it was
hard.
What would happen if I couldn’t find a way out? I debated whether
this question was
a
positive
one
, and decided it was. If I couldn’t break out, I had to
think of another plan
.

I knew I couldn’t depend on Velda having a change of heart.
She was already in too deep. I pictured
again
the coldness in her eyes as she’d debated whether to shoot me immediately or stash me in the cellar for a few minutes
. I’d already had one close call
.
The very notion of
another such encounter chilled my blood.
I needed a weapon
. The
pruning shears might do, but this was a matter of life or death. I couldn’t afford to overlook anything.
I checked
every inch of
the shelves
, front to back,
the second time around.
Way at the back, m
y hand closed over the handle of a hammer. With scarcely a pause, I stuck it in a loop of my jeans and searched further. I had never before hit anyone with a weapon, but if I got near Velda and her gun again, well, there was a first time for everything. I continued my grim search and stuffed a screwdriver into my pocket. Unfortunately, nothing else that might prove useful came to hand.

Still no sound from outside, but I probably wouldn’t be able to hear a car leaving anyway. Maybe Velda had actually decided to leave me locked in here, after all. A great wash of hope flooded me at the thought before reality broke through.

Time for another dose of positive thinking. I
re
considered my options. I could hide by the door and hope to hit Velda if she opened it. What else? Maybe I could dig my way out, but that would take weeks.
I could pry at the shutters
again;
the tools would likely be more effective than my fingers. Or
…
c
ould I go
through the cellar’s roof
?

I tested a shelf.
R
ock solid.
Closing my eyes
to protect them
, I clambered onto
the lowest
, knocking another couple of glass jars to the floor in the process.
Once more
I froze, heard no movement above me or outside,
and
resumed my work.
At this point, what difference did a little more noise make?
Time
was running out.
Stretching, I
jabbed the screwdriver
upward
.
No give to the
wood. I tried another spot,
this time striking
the end of the screwdriver with the hammer.
T
he blows jarred my hands
and accomplished nothing
.

I
stumbled blindly
to the other wall and repeated the exercise, climbing up and probing the roof
in a frenzy
until I’d convinced myself that it was as solid as the shelves.
Spent at last
, I
sank to
the
floor.
T
he door was t
he only way out.

A muffled crack from somewhere outside broke the silence.
I jumped
to my feet
in terror
.
Was that a shot?
It had to be. Velda must have shot whoever had come to the house. This was it. My blood pounded through my body. I was next. I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

With the hammer clutched in my hand, I took up
a
post behind the door. A moment later
,
the door screeched open. I squinted
in
the sudden light as a bulky shape
,
much
larger than Velda,
darkened the entry and stumbled inside.
Uncertain
, I dropped the hammer and
charged
. We tumbled to the floor, arms and legs entangled
. T
he door slammed, leaving the cellar once again in utter blackness.
I knew only one person who baked every day and smelled perpetually of cinnamon.

I sat up.
“
Minnie? What are you doing here?
”

“
I might ask you the same question,
”
came the panting reply
,
“
b
ut
first
,
please get your elbow out of my ribs.
”

Minnie maneuvered until we were shoulder to shoulder.
I could have kissed her. Good old bulldog Minnie. Not exactly the U.S. Cavalry, but always there to help. I should have known she wouldn’t let me down.

“
That’s much better
,
”
she said.
“
I’m here because Velda shoved me in here at gunpoint. How about you?
”

“
The same.
”

“
Just as I suspected,
”
Minnie said.
“
That woman is crazy. We need to get out of here before
she comes
back. Things will go very badly for us when she does, you know.
”

“
Yes. What’s the plan?
”
When Minnie didn’t reply immediately, I prompted her.
“
You did bring help?
”

“
No.
”
The disappointment was plain in her voice.
“
I was just bringing her a chicken pot pie for dinner. I didn’t know I needed someone to ride shotgun for that. When I saw your car down the road and read your note, I came to provide backup.
”

While I silently applauded Minnie’s courage in trying to come to my rescue, I fervently wished she’d chosen to
use her new cell phone
instead,
or
to
call the police from a neighbor’s house. She read my min
d.

“
I know what you’re thinking, Jane.
I f
orgot the darned
cell phone
at home. I thought of
call
ing
from
Janssens’ house, too
,
but I figured
bringing dinner was
the perfect cover
.
I planned to hand Velda the
pot pie
and get the lay of the land, so to speak. When
she
opened the door, she seemed relaxed and happy to see me, thanked me for the food
,
and even asked me to join her. She didn’t mention seeing you, so of course I had no idea you were in the root cellar. Really, by that time
,
I thought the coast was clear
,
and you’d been all wrong about
any threat to
her and Eleanor
,
although I did wonder what
had happened to you. That’s when I told her I’d seen your car on the ro
ad
and
said
we
should
call the sheriff.

“
I
magine my shock when instead of offering help
—
as I quite reasonably expected
—
she pulled out some kind of a pistol and threatened me. Can you believe it? After I’d brought her
my special chicken pot pie
?
”

“
That does seem a low blow, Minnie.
”

“
Really though, Jane, we’d better chat about this another time. She’s gone to hide your car—
”

“
And I conveniently left the keys in it, so I could leave in a hurry. Do you have any ideas about how to get us out of here?
”

Minnie’s disembodied voice, now laced with bitterness, came out of the darkness.
“
I found you. That was all I set out to do, that and deliver dinner. The rest of it is your department. You never like my plans anyway … like Operation Hollow Feather. Your heart wasn’t really in it. I could tell.
”

Dear Minnie.
Even in these dire circumstances
, she was still hurt about my lack of enthusiasm
about
her prowess as a detective
. She was definitely one of a kind.
I chose my words carefully.
“
T
hat idea didn’t work out particularly well—
”

“
No it didn’t,
so
now it’s your turn to think up a plan. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
”

“
So no one is outside except Velda? No one else knows you were coming here?
”

“
Exactly. Now, what are we going to d
o?
”

“
What just happened out there? I heard a shot.
”

“
I heard it even closer.
The gun
went off when I grabbed for
it
. Didn’t get it, but you probably figured that out already. Once Velda started waving that thing around, I knew I wasn’t going to get to the phone.
So
here I am. You didn’t have to tackle me.
”